&>fj ^k I' mV tjw» "jifo 'i? J1 ... .^Ty of Ml, 1 fe .. .• *i. \&4 toi ,i I 11: eii -a fv j. 'M4 §fV f'»| Wmf,, fer^'.v: iyr# '"r^v -v' lial •. -T* -.-" 11# F-" Iff R|1| it F".t {y S f» I gjw ty' •svtg**,. "V f-V 4 5 81^3? ffcrWiUiston^raphu COPELAND, B. A. THE GOOD OLD LAZY MAN. I know a dear old lazy man Wbo roams about all day. Whose head is full of happy thoughts And pleasant things to say. He wanders through the sunny streets, And lingers here and there To watch the children whom ho meets. Or smooth some baby's hair. And when he finds a lonely child* Or one that's fretful grown, He takes it gently by the hand As though It were his own. And hand in hand they stroll away Along the pavement wide. First down the block, and then across. Then up the other side. He helps the children at their games, And knows why each one wins, He telle just what day top-time ends And marble-time begins. He is no myth from fairyland. Nor prince in pauper's clothe^ But just a dear old lazy m...

thai SLICE of warm bread. Coming home from the office, Its cares and Its worries, Wcleblng mo down with a burden to night, I thought of my care-free and forlicsome boyhood. And bow quickly the years lntorvening took flight Ah! well I remember no chain could hav« bound me, la home from the schoolhouse my eager feet sped. Would now that my dining brought such satisfaction. As the thought of that slice of my mother's warm bread. *34 business transaction, however success ful', Can give such a thrill of unalloyed bliss As I fdt when mother, with limitless kind ness. Laid that great snowy slice in my little brown list. No rhythmical wording can ever describe it Or no sweeter ambrosia the gods ever fed: The future had need of no optimist's glasses. While I held in my brown fist that slice of warm bread. Oh, often when closing my desk for the evening. Where the roar of the city drowns each homely sound I imagine myself at the old country home- Where the daisies are sprinkling the soft grass...

•-VI'MV & u. ly 4 .ft uv I P'' *S«» ?l -1 :ff &' ('1 I :"4 & 1 yi a#*' iWf if iMfl ^1 IU: II |v ^lMAst a Million a mile," Coitlr Wo»hIii«ton Railroad Tb«t Is a Ourlcnlty. Skamania, county. Wash., has a rail, ujad that is a curiosity. It is less than iiur miles lousr, but is said ito have coot ^QOO.COO. rtis thc okl portage road from eompa ai-operty. of that company^ successor," \he. O. R. & X, There was a time when the road' (fid- an immense business, car rying, all th.f product's trf thty inland $ijd Diic'H'o' tidewater.1 all the freight dies-" iiived 'for the. viirie.s cf. Idaho, eaiktciri,( pre# cm and the vast region east of the .{.'ascwy.s.. 'v The tkys Ofljts. £'lory, have departed,, 'and to-d'ay it is scarcely more than two ^treaks'^J. rust and a righ't of way Its' Xjole use ne\V is tc» carry the salmon 'from "the fisheries along, the rapids to the Lower Cascades', from whicll point' they, -"-e ftUippod to \Y:irrt ndak\ ko the toad ivally "rims" yr-ly with th«...

Sbe Wiltt*t0n ffoaplut R. H. Copelakd, Publisher. WILLISTONl] N. OAK A SONG OF HER LOVE. There's a song of a bird in a blossoming tree. And songs in wind-trebles above: But the song that is ever the sweetest to me Is a dear little song of her love! L.ike fairy bells ringing Where roses are springing Is the song of her love that my glad heart is. singing! O the birds in the blossoms with melody charms, And the winds sing the blue fields above: But of rosy-red Hps and two little white arms Is the dear little song of my love. Of red- lips that kiss me And tenderly bless me. And arms like a necklace that clasp and caress me. Sing ever, ye birds, in the blossoming tree, And, winds, pipe your music above: ITcr brown curls are brighter than blos soms to me. And I'm singing a song of her love J..lke fairy bells ringing Where roses are springing, the song of her love that my glad heart is singing! —Atlanta Constitution. AN EXPERIENCE "jl It was Frazier's second day in the agency. He had come...

1 08 GONE. U1 ., r0 ne—my angel. mjr darling! Away to the mountains has flown, And I am sitting and dreaming, tendcrest sadness alone. .are'a nothing to shatter the silenc* A That broods like a fathomless pall n'er space that was once full of music. Save the sparrows' monotonous call. Around are touching mementos Of days that were brimming with cheer, when she. my radiant angel Prom the kingdom of Heaven, was near. The marks of her pink baby fingers Are still on the window's bright pane, where fond in my arms I upheld her To look at the glittering rain. I ,»r rattle still lies on my table. With all of its poor, battered bells. And oh. what a story of transport The dear little plaything now tells. On a chair Is her shoe like a flower A lover in his passion has pressed, its beautiful petals all faded. That bis sweetheart once wore on her breast. Tia true she has only departed To cross a brief channel of time, But ob. what a stifling measure It In life's musical rhyme! What a pause and...

Ike WiUiJfrra 6rapbit B. H. COFEUKD, Publisher. WILLISTON] N. DAK viously 9m »c- IN THE VERANDAH. BY CLARENCE ROOK "rt EORGE, is that you?" Ix It was the voice of Celia from the balcony of oifr room on the first floor. I craned mj ne?k, and' answered' from the hotel veranda, where I was engaged in cutting the tip oft my after-dinner cigar. "Yes, here I am. Won't you coane and •it with me? It's jolly." Celia disappeared into the rooan. "What?" said Martin, stopping in the gravel path below, where he was smok ing1 in solitude. "Do you want me?" "I don't want you particularly," I •aid. "Oh, I thought you said'you did," said Martin. "Did you speak, George?"' said Celia, emerging- again upon the balcony. «Xo—yes," I said. It is so difficult to tell the whole truth in a single word. "I thought you said you didn't want me," said Celia. "Of course I want you," I said. "Come along it's delightfully quiet and pleas ant." "Wlhy tlhe blazes can't you say what you mean, if you mean anything at a...

HEARTSEASE. 0 diim b*neath the moon '•JJi from c*re and grief immune? flme where doth heartsease grow? i*hould dearly love to know This the herb that poets say liives all sadness far away. Si who lt« sweet Juices sips Laughter dwell* upon his lips. JCill sorrow, grief and woe Heartsease Is the deadly foe Some allege that such herbs be iW olace called Arcady— vine somewhere toward the east, r/'.po and bounds there's not the least atn or mark in all the books on he'll find whoe'er that looks. ?hither traveling in vain quest Many souls have thought to rest. Twice ten thousand maids and men Paring far have come again, Saving that nowhere there lies anrh a place beneath the skies. One I l"ew. youthf full fair. All his manners debonair, Who for heartsease far and wide •Traversed plain and mountain side. He returning, came at length Stripped all his youth and strength. v0w that face once summer-bright Cheerless looked as winter's night. This report he gave to me: "There's no place called A...

itV' !l ysLt af T" Fred Feiyly was down from Biifo'rd on business yesterday. Jay Pettis returned lionie yesterday from his visit to friends in Minnesota. Our New School Bell. The new beli for the Williston school house purchased of the Cincinnati Bell Foundry Co., through Hedderich Bros, of this oily, arrived here hist Monday and was safely delivered at the school building. It is a ''beaut" in every par ticular, and weighs, with its huntings, something over 500 pounds. The coin puny from whom the bell was purchased has fnrnitjbed the district with the following warranty, which is an addi tional reason why the patrons of the school should feel satisfied with the action of the board of education in this transaction: WARRANTY. Cincinnati, Ohio, Jan. 20th. 1S0S. "We heroby warrant the iiO inch "Biymver" Bf 1! sold to the public School of Williston N. 1)., not to fracture, while beinjj rnny in the proper manner, for live years from date of this warrant. Should the bell frucliire H'itiiiu...

I 1 I- Klu SWiUiaton Graphic &. 3. Gopblahd, Publisher. fflLUSTON, N. OAK THE VbSPER LAND. When evening bells are blending Their vespers with the breeze, Look o'er the waste unending Of airy summer seas. And there thou'lt see, dim. faint and Zw% Unbounded save by evening's star, The isles that are not, yet that ava, The sweet Hesperides. Here cloudy waves beat golden. Along the ruddy shore. Here bards and heroes olden Dwell on forevermorc. Here dawn brings night, and night brfngs morn. Rut Death sounds not his hunter's horn. Nor men of life and love are shorn, Nor sorrow strides before. And sounds came ever winging Across the misty miles, Of clear-voiced poets singing The praises of the isles, But none may sing with them, 'tis said. Save he whose lips have sometime shed A song to live when lips are dead. And dead their songs and smiles. Long have I toiled and striven. Nor thought to cease or rest. To gain the goal, God-given, Valhalla of the west. Hut still I strive, and still I...

•A *\i IT CANNOT BE. ^4 h« that Ht who made 'iE^androua world for our dettght. ^Id that aU tta charms ahould fada, HifJii forever from our sight *®®JfZhall wither and decay, 'W vn?w on earth no life but thla, v/ntv one finite survey ft} a?£ beauty and I ^-ll0t be that all the years and care and grief we live Lof..«nd no recompense but tears, Pf" "'et return that earth can give ftEWt leads us to aspire P". 'iljceie onward to achieve, Uh wery unattalned desire. F^lven only to deceive. .. .afinot be that after all "JSlmiffhty conquests of the mind thoughts shall pass beyond recall, w.r leave no record here behind ,1 0 ur dreams of love and fame, hones that time has swept away. ,«Sat enthralled this mortal fame. SWA not return some other day. ,.nnot be that all the ties T^klndred souls juuMoving hearts [M teoken when this body dies, VtuI the immortal mind departs kriiit no serener light shall break i» last upon our mortal eyes, Ll LlJde us as our footsteps make Ft£r pilgrimage of Paradi...

., j^fS II.1 jjs ^J3^K\^«L .- S ''Wvfc. fe ft^ "J fn-* TRICKS OF MEDIUMS. Supposed Spiritual Phenomena Merely Legerdemain. Some of the Trlck» Employed by Pro feanlonnlM to Hoodwink the Peo ple Not Genuine Spir itualism. A well-known magician who has been before the public ni'any years in his professional capacity contributes an interesting article to the Scientific American in the nature of an exposure of spiritualistic frauds. The article was not written for the purpose of antagonizing- sincere be lievers in spiritualism, but merely to explain, how several professional "me diums" and a number of unbelievers in spiritualism have secured their release from cabinets- in. which they had been, fastened. The writer frankly states that during the many years he has given exhibitions of the. magician's art he has met many test "mediums," and can say without qualification that all of them have been imposters. On the other han'd, this writer has himself performed cabinet tricks many times, an...

fke SRtillistan Graphic B. A. COPULA.ND, Publisher. WILLISTON^ H. OAK THE WANDERER. At drowsy dawn I left fhe gate—so very long ago. Whether that home be memory or dream I hardly know. The cloud-hung visions of the morn were far more real then Than now are thronging city streets atid cries of eager men. The hours ere yet the sun was hifrh were like' eternities. But now how swift the shadows run, how near the darkness is! Ah, well! 'Tis aye the happiest day comes swift to even-song With merrier comrades never yet did pil grim pass along. The paths that widest seem to part stllf winding turn and meet Perchance they do but homeward lead again our wandering feet. Familiar faces vanish, but the voices vi brate still, And nothing now seems far away, at the ending of the hill. To one warm hand alone I cling, as fast the night grows late. And crave that we may conie at last to gether at the gate. —William Cranston Lawton. in Century. I HIS FRESHMAN ROMANCE. $ BY ABBOE FAR WELL BROW*. APROPO...

''JS'tp It 'ite&M THE UTTLE KINA to his kingdom «t dead of night, P^'vera cent to pay had he) I^lhAa were fine and wtth laco bedlght t« And Slept and took his eas«, k*Wneveracent to pay had he): J0"'". esaid, nor cared to please, PVw'"6- i. -eh line day he rode in state, never a cent to pay had he) I# Jlssals true to watch and wait EaUghtest need to see. I, .ifprvthing he had the best, ¥rf»h never a cent to pay had he) ll?h not a care to trouble his rest, fear of *ught to be. timn foes on he holds the throne never a cent to pay has he) yh's the world for his very own, This scion of royalty. I. )im0 goes on, but his kingdom stands Rvit never a cent to pay has he) IJJ we all keep step to his swift com- I wfth^ad humility. ami A. Ijente. In Good Housekeeping. [aclew by wire Or, An Interrupted Current. BY HOWARD M. YOST. Copyright. 1896. by J. B. Lipplncott Co. CHAPTER XV.—CONTINUED. conversation which Sonntag- and ^lf had noted this rooming in our Lavor to solve the mystery of the ...